


In the Wind

by ajfessler



Series: Something of Worth [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: In between and back again, Natasha's story, Natasha-centric, Something of Worth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:16:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9238625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajfessler/pseuds/ajfessler
Summary: Natasha Romanov knows a lot needs to be done to keep the Avengers and Tony Stark safe.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DT Maxwell (Draya)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draya/gifts).



Anger made her movements jerky and almost clumsy. How could he say that to her, of all people? The anger in his eyes had been real, but she was unsure of what exactly he had been angry about, reading the emotions of others had been drilled into her skull since she was a little girl. Using those emotions once she knew what they were was child’s play. Figuring out the motivations for those emotions, not so much. She thought they had been on the same page. On the same wavelength like normal. She threw another shirt into the bag she was packing. Apparently not. 

A chirp from her phone broke through the angry hurt rampage she was making on her suite in the Compound. Glaring at the Stark phone sitting benignly on her dresser Natasha wondered what would happen if she just ignored it. A second chirp deflated most of her anger as she stalked across the room to pick the phone up. It was a text from Friday. Tony was on his way to the RAFT for a meeting with Ross. Biting her lip and looking around the room while tapping the phone on her chin Natasha made up her mind. Her little fragile family might be broken and furious with each other, but it was still hers. 

A quick message to Friday asking for details in the sudden change of plans was sent before she unpacked the bag she had been throwing together and repacked it with more care. She would need a great deal less than originally packed if she were going to make sure that the Avengers came home in one piece. 

By the time she had finished changing her clothes and repacking her bag Friday had messaged her back with enough information for Natasha to put the pieces together. A few quick searches on her computer got her everything else she needed to know. Barnes had been framed it seemed. Colonel Helmut Zemo might be the name the man was going by now, but when she had known him, he had gone by Mikhail Bogdanov. She had admired him, once upon a time, when he was everything that she was supposed to be. An intelligent little weasel of a man, Mikhail had always had a bit too much arrogance to be effective. A slow smirk stole over her features. She knew this man, knew his strengths and weaknesses. Natasha knew exactly what his final step would be in this little drama he had begun. What she didn’t know was who was pulling his strings. 

~*(^.=.^)*~

Her first stop was to Senator Nolan, one of Ross’s most staunch supporters. She arrived at the tail end of a meeting that wasn’t actually taking place with men who didn’t actually exist. Slipping in the window while they were talking had been a skill Clint had taught her, and she spared a moment to wonder where the archer was and if he was ok. She couldn’t afford to let her concertation falter for long. She had a laundry list of tasks that had to happen in a very specific timeline if events were going to come together as they should without falling apart in the process. 

She slipped a knife along the Senator’s throat as the door closed on the last man and whispered in his ear, “Don’t make a sound or you are dead before they can save you.”  
The jerky nod in response was all she needed before she threw a set of carefully altered papers inside a bland manila folder onto the man’s desk and told him, “You will conform to those demands, or I will know why. If you do not, I will systematically take away everything you care about. If you think I can’t, then I suggest you take a good long look at the photos and come to the right conclusion. You have one week to accept my terms.”

She was out of sight before he could spin around. She watched in bored amusement as he searched his office for any trace of her. She had to give him credit, though, he didn’t call security. Her angle was all wrong to see his face when he removed her contract and photos from their folder, but she had seen the slouch of his shoulders on other, stronger men before and knew what they meant. She had won this round. Natasha knew the Senator would try and fight her on this, but his loyalty could be secured, for the right price. Her currency was just a bit more personal. 

Natasha was well versed in ferreting out mistresses and the men who kept them. It had taken minimal effort to secure photos of the Senator with his favorite. The surprise to her was that the man had three of them and a wife. There were children involved as well, but that was one of the few lines that Natasha had promised herself once she had freed herself from the Red Room and the KGB she would never cross again. It was one of the few things that she and Tony agreed about without complaint or compromise. Children were to be protected. 

With the Senator taken care of for the moment, she could move on to what she had mentally dubbed operation get out of jail free. 

~*(^.=.^)*~

 

Men were morons, especially her men. Natasha had settled on a balcony some four blocks northwest of Steve’s location and wondered if the man had ever had to learn the concept of subtle. The plaid button down, slacks and brown leather jacket weren’t something that she would have missed before she had met the man. They were so out of style that they were almost in style. Or would be if Steve had any concept of skinny jeans. The very idea brought a smile to her face as she pictured it. 

The package was due to arrive in Steve’s inbox any moment. She rolled her eyes, his password had left much to be desired in security and his username had been laughable if it hadn’t told her just how much Steve hadn’t been dealing with being seventy-five years into the future without anyone recognizable. 

She had left Tony at the Compound because there were things that needed to be taken care of that the genius just wouldn’t be able to accomplish. Her package to Steve, the blueprints to the RAFT, were just the first in a series of events that needed to happen to ensure that her family was kept safe. The next step would be to hack the Raft and change seven passcodes to Steve’s SHEILD access code, a feat which Tony would be better at but his signature couldn’t be anywhere near what she was up too. Tony needed to come out of the political bloodbath she was going to instigate so squeaky clean that even the pope wouldn’t compare. So, she would be on her own, no safety net. 

It had been a long time since she had been forced to rely only on her own skills without any backup. Coulson had been in her ear for the last decade and Clint over her shoulder to keep her from getting burnt. Things hadn’t been the same at all since the Battle of New York. Clint had been off kilter; Coulson had been just gone for longer than she wanted to contemplate and once back had been whisked away into seclusion by Fury. Her little family had been lost in the shuffle and replaced by one much bigger but much more fragile. 

Tony was an older brother she never knew she needed, Clint was still the darkness in her shadow, Steve was an adorable little brother who was just starting to find a real place in the world, Bruce had been some strange mix between a friend and a lover before he was just lost to her entirely. Jarvis had been an ever-amusing companion in the dead of night when the serum wouldn’t permit her to settle down into sleep. Thor, big bold lovable Thor had taken up a special place in her heart that was halfway between tolerated nuisance and chastised puppy. She was unsure about how she felt about Wanda, the other woman seemed both at once far older than her actual age and far younger. Natasha mused that likely it was both, the trauma Wanda would have experienced could have twisted her perception irrevocably to the point that even Wanda didn’t know how she should act. 

Her attention was drawn to a minor commotion at the café Steve had decided to inhabit. Her package must have arrived. Putting the binoculars to her eyes, she got a clear view of his face just in time to see him mouth, Thanks Tony, before closing his SHIELD issued laptop and stalking off down the street in the opposite direction from his motel room. Phase one of break family out of jail, complete. Her smile was faint as she uncurled from her position and returned to her safe house to get ready for phase two. Her next task would be to make sure that there wasn’t a soul who could stop Steve from walking into the RAFT with the blueprints she had just given him. With a smirk, she thrust a pair of sunglasses over her eyes and sauntered down the sidewalk. 

~*(^.=.^)*~

Her return to the Senator was uneventful. Nolan had signed the contract that stated he would ensure that nothing hindered the progress of repealing the Accords and wouldn’t permit his cronies or subordinates to do so either. That took six of the loudest voice for the Accords out of the contest. With any luck, Natasha mused, Ross wouldn’t have the ready funds to outmaneuver her on this front and Tony would take care of the rest. She made a mental note to keep tabs on his progress, but there wasn’t anything else she could do except board her plane and hope she’d done enough. 

~*(^.=.^)*~

Her next meeting could potentially end in disaster without any recourse for a redo. The thrill of it sent her heart racing and caused her palms to start sweating. Natasha was pretty sure that she was not high on the King of Wakanda’s ally list currently. She had let his revenge walk away after all. It was probably a good thing that Natasha’s meeting wasn’t with the King himself, but instead with his chief advisor, his sister Shuri. Natasha had laid this encounter out very carefully. She needed to ensure that Steve and company would be kept safe and secure and _not_ allowed to go roam hither thither without leave. She needed to know where they were so she knew who to call if things went spectacularly belly up. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if the world actually needed them and no one could find them. So she had set her meeting, not with the King but with the crowned Princess who had his ear.  
She had landed on a commercial flight that had been long, cramped and hot. As she walked past the security checkpoint, was an elegant black man holding a sign with her current alias on it. She recognized him instantly, S’Kiho was the third cousin twice removed from the royal family and took his responsibility to protect the royal family seriously. The KGB had only tried for T’Challa’s life once, but once had been enough for Natasha. She had spent weeks in a German hospital recuperating after the man had finished with her. Some of her unease must have shown on her face because his passive bored look turned into a wolfish smile at the sight of her. Apparently, S’Kiho hadn’t forgotten her any more than she had forgotten him. 

She stood in front of him, almost two heads shorter than him and just waited. This was obviously the first test of her intentions. It took a minute but his smile grew a fraction larger and a good deal less threatening before he remarked, “The prestigious Black Widow to grace our great halls once more, how we should be honored?”

Natasha didn’t sigh, nor did she roll her eyes before smiling and remarking, “And this time I forgot to bring my claws so if you’re looking for a rematch I’m just going to have to pass.” 

He laughed at her, loud and freely before the sign with her alias on it disappeared somewhere in his suit coat, and her hand was tucked into the corner of his elbow. S’Kiho lead her to a black town car that her experienced eye said was decked out in all of the latest security features, several she was sure weren’t even on the market yet. That Natasha did roll her eyes at, Tony Stark had strange and mysterious ways of showing he cared about people, and she wasn’t at all surprised to know that he was on excellent terms with the Wakandans. 

The ride from the airport to the royal compound seemed to take twice as long as she remembered. S’Kiho answered the question she didn’t even realize was written all over her face when he said, “We are taking several detours to ensure that you actually came alone and your masks are exquisite, but Wakanda is known for our stoic dispositions. As such, one learns at a young age to read what isn’t written for the world to see.” 

This time, she did sigh. 

By the time they finally arrived at the Royal Compound several hours had passed and the sun was setting. She stopped to look at the beautiful tapestry that was laid out before her. Behind her, Natasha felt S’Kiho stop as well. They stood there together for a long moment before his hand settled gently on her back and steered her towards the entrance. 

The frisking Natasha received upon walking in the front doors put airport security to shame before she was escorted, not by S’Kiho, to a cozy little room that didn’t bear any resemblance to any office or conference room she had ever witnessed before. There was no table, just low chairs with side tables that would hold nothing bigger than a saucer and teacup. Along the walls that were taken up by floor to ceiling windows were bookcases. The books themselves were leather bound without a title on the spine. She was loathed to touch any of them. Instead, Natasha busied herself with looking at the little knick knacks interspersed on the shelves. Natasha had gotten engrossed in examining a skull with what appeared to be horns when the door to the room was thrown open startling her. 

Spinning around into a defensive position she waited. Her business suit and pumps were not ideal for engaging in an unknown, potentially much larger target, but she was damned if she had managed to live this long just to be taken out quietly. 

A robust and lightly accented voice declared, “Natasha Romanov, Black Widow. I can’t say I’m surprised, but I am curious. What has brought the little spider out of her den?” 

Natasha froze, she had not planned on talking to T’Challa. She had been hoping to not even see him. They hadn’t parted on good terms, and she was under no illusions that time had done anything to amend those terms. Slowly, in case she was reading the situation wrong, and he was actually going to attack her, Natasha stood back up and said, “Your majesty, a pleasure to see you again.” 

It wasn’t, they both knew that, but she had to say something. The man was a King after all. T’Challa regarded her for a long minute before sauntering into the room and taking one of the chairs. He settled down into it without preamble and just watched her. Taking the hint, Natasha followed suit and the exact moment she had settled down into the chair a stranger in a wait staff uniform brought in tea. Once the waiter had gone T’Challa looked her over once more before saying, “I hear that you are the one to thank for my extended list of guests.” 

She winced, took a sip of her tea and nodded. Natasha didn’t know how to traverse this game without getting someone in trouble with the Wakandans and out of the three candidates likely to be brought to bear under T’Challa’s wrath Natasha thought that she would be the best option. That didn’t mean she had to like the possibility but protecting the Avengers, and Tony wouldn’t do much good if T’Challa were to screw up her plans. The man’s gaze never wavered as the silence stretched on until he hummed at her before announcing, “I’ve had enough of this game for one day. I shall be frank with you. I have the Avengers, I have Barnes, I had Zemo. You have Tony Stark who is, as usual, making a mess of things for General Ross while the man attempts to garner enough support to try and invade my borders. So Widow, why have you come into my lands?”

With a deep breath, Natasha set her tea cup down. It wouldn’t do to give him an obvious cue that her hands were shaking, before she said, “I am here to check up on the Avengers, gather intelligence on Zemo, and verify that Wakanda has no plans to interfere with Stark’s bid to repeal the Sokovia Accords.” 

Those were the most important of all her cards, she also needed the man to keep the Avengers in his Compound, to not jeopardized her mission to end Zemo and to help Tony write a counter set of Accords. Natasha was well aware that Tony knew he couldn’t just overthrow the currently ratified documents without something to take their place. The UN and the world wanted accountability of actions and one way or another they would get that accountability. The trick was to come up with something that everyone could live with and didn’t strip fundamental rights away from anyone. 

T’Challa regarded her for a long minute before he said, “Not everything you are here for I suspect but honest enough for a spy. Before I tell you what you want to know, I will tell you something you need to know. I found Zemo, Rogers and Barnes exiting a bunker in Siberia. I’m sure you know the one. Zemo was please, Rogers was furious, and Barnes resigned. I do not know what took place but judging by the state of the two super soldiers I would surmise that a fight broke out and Rogers was not the loser of that altercation. We have been tracking your movements assuming correctly that you were the dark side of Tony Stark’s moon and that sooner or later you would make an appearance.” She sat in silence mulling his words over as he took a sip of his tea. They stayed that was for a long minute before T’Challa continued, “Zemo escaped my clutches with help that is no longer available to him heading northward. Beyond that I do not know or frankly care at the moment as I have bigger fish to fry, so to speak.”

T’Challa regarded her thoughtfully for a long moment as Natasha just sat in her chair and stared at him. This was not at all how she had planned the meeting to go. Annoyance built inside her as a tiny smirk played around the corners of T’Challa’s mouth before she could call him out for toying with her, T’Challa resumed, “As for the Avengers, I will see to it that they; how shall I say it? That they make no more of a nuisance of themselves than has already been done. If they think to wander from my hospitality, they will quickly find that hospitality disappears. I don’t believe they have quite wrapped their heads around the fact that they are terrorist with considerable bounties on their heads and the only thing protecting them is my generosity and patience. The first which is not so generous they will get comfortable and the second which has been taxed considerably with their hate and anger at Tony Stark. Lastly, the Accords. You may, or may not, be surprised to learn that Tony Stark has been in contact with me several times regarding those very documents about creating a suitable replacement that eliminated any one government's control and permitted all countries of the United Nations access to the benefits of the Avengers and X-men. I give you my word as a man of honor that I will do everything in my power to help him get this affair in order.” 

Natasha nodded, slightly perplexed but thought better of asking any further questions. She knew he was busy, and the bags under his eyes told her his time was precious. She gave T’Challa a smile and said to him as graciously as she could, “Thank you for your time and this wealth of information.” 

T’Challa’s chuckle surprised her before he placed a hand over his mouth obviously stiflingly laughter. It didn’t take T’Challa long to reign his amusement back in and before she could ask what was so funny the man informed her, “This exchange was not for free Ms. Romanov but what I am going to ask you in return is not fit for a King to ask. Is not fit for anyone to ask but needs must be met. I have two tasks for you. The first you are already doing, keep Tony Stark safe. He has many enemies and few enough friends. The second, I have three names which need to be retired, if you take my meaning. The first is Helmut Zemo. The second is a man by the name of Gunther Strange who goes by the moniker Red Guardian. The third is Alexei Shostakov, a former holder of the moniker Red Guardian and currently a dealer of arms and secrets who has one too many secrets for sale. Do we have a deal?”

Natasha stiffened. She didn’t do this anymore. Trade lives for secrets. She thought she had gotten out of that game when Natasha had left the Red Room, and again when she had left the KGB. SHIELD had made use of her vast quantity of other talents and had allowed her to retire from being an assassin. Natasha had learned far too late to do anything about it that they had allowed her to hang up her knives and garrote because Clint Barton was fulfilling their every requirement for an assassin and doing so more efficiently than she would ever manage. She closed her eyes for a moment, three lives for the safety of her family. How high was the price Natasha was willing to pay to ensure they continued on in the manner in which they had been? When she opened her eyes again, there was a resolve deep in her center. Three lives were small stakes when it came to the Avengers. Natasha nodded and replied, “We have a deal.”

~*(^.=.^)*~

Gunther had been the easiest out of all of her targets, the man hadn’t been well trained, hadn’t been enhanced in any way and hadn’t seen her coming. Few men did, though, so she wasn’t surprised when Gunther fell for her beautiful face and enticing looks. The ease of which Gunther had gone down had unnerved her, and if things had continued being that easy, she would have walked away. Easy, simple and without a hitch were terms which she avoided and if any of them applied she walked away. Killing people wasn’t supposed to be easy. When it got easy, you got sloppy. Sloppy assassins got caught, as Natasha well knew. 

Zemo had disabused her of all thoughts that her mission was going too easy. Natasha gave him credit, he was good at hiding. Unfortunately for him, like many of her generation, Zemo failed to take into account security cameras were practically everywhere. It had taken her three weeks before she had found the first sign of him. After that, it was just a slow, careful game of waiting as she spun her web around him. His end was abrupt and painful. The serum the Red Room agents had been given had burned like fire in her veins when it had been administered. The counter apparently was just as painful. Not that Natasha had cared, this was the man who had forcefully manipulated the Avengers into tearing themselves apart. His screams of agony were a gentle sonata followed by a lullaby of gasps and gurgles as she watched him hang. Natasha remained long past the point of safety to ensure that he was actually dead and stalked his body for the month that followed which the local police for investigated, searched for remaining family and then cremated it. Only when she was sure he was gone for good did Natasha start her quest to find Alexei Shostakov. 

Her former husband had always been wild, it was one of the traits that had drawn her to him in the first place, and one of the reasons why she had said yes to him as well. That he had been selected to receive Red Guardian training had only sweetened the deal. Their marriage hadn’t lasted past Alexei learning just what she did to earn her keep, but it had been fun while it lasted, and his departure had wounded her deeply. Natasha had thought he would be different, would understand. She had been a naive child. 

Natasha had found Alexei above an old bar that served questionable alcohol in a city that was run down and mostly bombed out in Turkey near the Armenian border. The goons drinking watered down bathtub vodka were oblivious enough that Natasha was able to slip into the second story with little issue. The ruckus they were causing covered any noise she might have made when opening the window. 

She found Alexei in a chair by a fire and nearly pitied him. He was an old man now, well past his prime. Snow white hair as full as it was when he was young graced his head, his long talented fingers were withered but still efficient as they pointed a gun in her direction. Natasha noticed that he didn’t stand and that there was a cane leaning surreptitiously against the arm of his chair. Natasha smiled Alexei frown. 

“ _I know you._ ” Was spat in Natasha's direction. Cyrillic syllables rolling off his tongue the same way French did once upon a time. She had loved listening to him speak, had always believed his voice had been made for talking. 

Taking a few more steps into the light, Natasha replied “ _You did, once._ ” 

Alexei merely frowned harder at her before his expression cleared. One of fear replacing his frown before he asked, “ _Natalia, here to escort me to the beyond?_ “

Her heart clenched, he thought her dead already. Well, that could work to her advantage. Natasha moved forward slowly, as she did Alexei’s weapon lowered until it rested in his lap. Once she was within arms reach, he looked up at her and said, “ _You are as beautiful as the day I married you._ ” 

Natasha forced herself to smile, to caress his face as she did once upon a time so long ago. Ever so carefully she placed the syringe to his heart. She hadn’t realized how much time had passed. The drug would kill him in seconds instead of minutes. Perhaps it was better that way Natasha mused as she placed a gentle kiss to lips she once knew so well as her other hand drove the needle deep into his chest, hopefully into his heart and her thumb depressed the plunger. So long as the drug made it into his heart, he would die painlessly and rapidly. If she had missed he would still die, just much slower and much more painfully with an added anxiety of the poison being countered. 

She pulled back, taking the hypodermic needle with her and released a sigh of relief as Alexei almost immediately slumped down and stopped breathing. She smoothed his hair back down where it had been mused before turning her back on the final pages of another age-old chapter of her life. 

~*(^.=.^)*~

By the time Natasha had made it back to Wakanda news of the repeal of the Sokovia Accords had been made public, Natasha had been out of contact with Friday for a solid week, and it had been reported to her that Tony Stark was nowhere to be found in the Avengers Compound. Though in her contacts defense, no one could be found in Avengers Compound. What worried her the most was that Friday had stopped responding to her. She didn’t think Tony would have done anything drastic, but without the AI’s near constant updates on her creator, Natasha felt like she was walking through a room in the dark. She knew what should be there and could estimate where things were but was likely to stub a toe if she didn’t get the lights on soon. 

This time Natasha didn’t use the front door. She didn’t leave her weapons at home, but she did settle down into the same queer room that she had been shown to on her previous visit and waited. It took longer than she expected for T’Challa to show up and when he did Natasha frowned. The bags under the monarch’s eyes were much deeper, and he had lost a bit of weight. Not enough to really show but the cheekbones and chiseled jawline were a great deal sharper than Natasha remembered from before. 

T’Challa’s exhaustion showed to her keen eye in every gesture and stride the man took to get from one side of the room to the chair he had claimed previously. She crossed her arms and glared at him for a long moment before declaring, “You look like you need a vacation.” 

Natasha noted his humor was still intact when the man chuckled at her before telling her, “You must be in contact with Shuri, my sister said the same thing this very morning.” 

Natasha rolled her eyes. They both knew she wasn’t. It would have been too dangerous while she was completing her task list. Shaking her head Natasha told him, “It is done, the favor you requested.” 

She was unsurprised that T’Challa nodded before he said, “And I have fulfilled my end of the bargain. The Avengers have been kept confined and out of the news. They leave for the Avenger’s Compound in the morning, and truthfully, I will be glad to be rid of them. I have never in my life been forced to deal with so much hate and anger at one person who was merely doing the best they could at the given time. Tony is well rid of them himself and I, for one, applaud his sound sense in this matter.” 

Natasha nodded and asked, “Do you know why they are so angry?” 

The shrug she got in response wasn’t reassuring. T’Challa’s statement that followed though was enlightening, “They perceive a betrayal where there was none and feel that the man who walked on a very short leash should have been in the cell next to them.” 

He gave her a look; one she couldn’t decipher that irritated her beyond all reason. Glaring back at him she informed him coldly, “Stark and I parted under less than amicable terms. Just because I feel he’s got the right of it with accountability, responsibility and restraint does not mean I think he was any more in the right of things than Steve. Just because Steve was right that the Accords were flawed documents intent only to entrap people doesn’t mean I think he was right. They were both wrong, and they were both right.” 

Natasha knew her words were true, but she was still more on Tony’s side of things than Steve’s. Steve had no right to get up in a huff about how things turned out. She had seen the footage, Tony _had_ been the reasonable one; for once. T’Challa regarded her evenly for a long moment before rubbing a hand over his eyes. Once finished, the King of Wakanda stood up and informed her, “The Avengers cease darkening my doorsteps at first light, I’ll expect you’ll have seen yourself out by then as well. It has been a pleasure doing business with you Ms. Romanov.” And then he was gone, leaving her in the little room without a purpose for being there. 

~*(^.=.^)*~

She watched the preparation of the quinjet for a shadowed vantage point on the roof. The trick would be sneaking past Captain America with his enhanced senses and Clint Barton who had a “knack” for stealth infiltration. Careful examination revealed that her luck was in for once as the quinjet that had been sent for the Avengers was an older model that had a side hatch for storing MRE’s that for someone with the right proportions would allow access into the hold. Natasha thought that she had lost just enough weight through her walkabout that she would be able to squeeze through. If not, she would be a very frozen Black Widow by the time they landed. It wouldn’t kill her, but recovering from being frozen was never easy or quick. 

Slipping down to the ground she timed her approach just as the majority of the Wakandans finished their tasks and left the helicopter pad. It was a simple matter to stow the box of rations she had carried and slip into the cargo hold. From there she waited. 

The cargo hatch was closed, but she could hear faint voices. It sounded like a conversation, one that didn’t last past a few exchanges. The sound of feet walking back and forth above her came next until even that settled into nothingness. The next sound was the one she had been waiting for, the sound of the engines starting. At that point, she began wiggling herself into the maintenance hatch which would lead to a tight shaft where the internal electronic control units for the engines were installed. Permitting that she could fit, there was a secondary exit into the main cabin at the other end. 

It was a tight squeeze, and once more she cursed being born with boobs. Thankfully, they were rather shapely lumps of fat and were able to flatten to enough of a degree to allow her to slide through the shaft. Natasha settled down against the far door for a few moments to rest and relax. It was the first time in months that she was sure there wasn’t a single person watching her or trying to kill her. That, potentially, could all change the moment Natasha slipped into the main cabin of the quinjet. Natasha allowed herself a long moment of weakness as she curled her knees to her chest and just breathed. She just had to keep telling herself that it was all over, they were all going home.

**Author's Note:**

> Bogdanov meaning son of Bogdan  
> Bogdan meaning gift of god  
> Mikhail meaning who is like God?
> 
> I give you these things because the means of names is fascinating to me and I want you to appreciate my choices.  
> -AJ


End file.
